


I'm not a killer.

by millygal



Series: Stydia's comment fic meme [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, M/M, Mark of Cain, fighting brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Dean's being slowly corrupted by the Mark, forcing Castiel to side with Sam and leave his best friend a broken man.





	I'm not a killer.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emmatheslayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmatheslayer/gifts).



> Written for this prompt by EmmaTheSlayer Supernatural, castiel /sam winchester, Cas picks Sam not Dean everyone is surprised even Sam.
> 
> Thank you to jj1564 for the Beta ♥

The fight has been raging for what seems like hours.

Voices hoarse and sore, eyes ringed in red and black, bruises forming that will take weeks to heal, taunts about character that will take even longer to scab over, and Castiel doesn’t know if he can take much more of this.

“Sam, Dean, you must sto - “

Sam reels back and punches Dean hard in the jaw, snapping his brother’s head backwards and leaving angry teeth marks in his knuckles. “Bastard, seriously, you’re an utter bastard. He was gonna go straight, all you had to do was let him walk away.”

Dean steadies himself against an upturned chair, and spits blood and tooth fragments onto the floor at Sam’s feet before sneering at him. “Sammy, you’re such a fuckin’ moron. Just because Kate managed to hold her wolfy instincts in check, doesn’t mean every rabid pup we come across will pull that crap off.”

Sam sucks on the hole in his knuckle, flicking his tongue against the loose flap of skin, and kicks out at the chair Dean’s leaning heavily against, causing him to stumble sideways into the door jam.

Sam’s eyes are burning with unchecked rage; Castiel can see both brothers are inching ever closer to a line they should never cross. If someone doesn’t intervene there’ll be no going back. “STOP!”

Dean ignores his best friend in favour of launching himself at his brother, fingers curled into vicious looking talons. “ASSHOLE!”

Sam’s already squaring his shoulders and leaning down into the blow that’s coming when Castiel steps in front of him, creating an Angelic brick wall between the warring men. “ **Stop**.”

Castiel has in the past had to use his powers against both Sam and Dean, but most of those incidents grew out of someone else pulling his strings or his consciousness being tainted by outside forces. 

He’s never once considered doing this when in his right mind, and he knows Dean will hate him for it, but he can’t bear to see the bile between them anymore.

Raising his hand and allowing the power that still pulses just below the surface to radiate out from his body, Castiel pins Dean to the spot. “Dean, this has to stop. Sam is right. That thing on your arm is corrupting your soul and blocking what you know to be true.”

Despite the fact Dean can’t move, can’t lower his raised arms or even shuffle his feet, Castiel has left him the power of speech and he’s already launching into a tirade that would quail a lesser being. “You have gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me! Cas, man, are you insane? He was a WEREWOLF and Sam was all ready to let him go on his way, chow down on hearts-a-plenty, and you’re telling me he’s RIGHT! You’re as fuckin’ moronic and naive as _him_. And The **Mark** has nothin’ to do with this!”

As Dean lets loose a string of expletives that burns the air in the room, Sam steps around Castiel and turns his back on Dean, infuriating his brother even more. “Cas, what are you doing?”

“Ending this. Sam, you were right. All I sensed from Malcolm was an overwhelming urge to change, to try, and Dean gutted him like an animal.”

Looking over Sam’s shoulder, making full eye contact with Dean, Castiel continues. “Death is not your business and Dean seems to have forgotten that. I will not stand here and watch him tear you to pieces for his mistake.”

Sam’s shock is palpable. 

_Dean and I do share a more profound bond_

And yet there is truth in Castiel’s words, a sincerity in his eyes that makes Sam turn and face Dean with straighter shoulders and his head held high. “Dean, please. It’s done now, and Cas is right, we’re just taking chunks out of each other for no reason but hurt pride and stupid male ego.”

Dean’s not ready to admit defeat and he certainly isn’t going to give Sam or Cas the pleasure of an apology, not when he believes he did the right thing. “Castiel, let me **go**.”

The venom in Dean’s voice makes Castiel shake his head _no_ , but the feel of Sam’s hand resting on his arm and squeezing gently forces him to relinquish his hold on Dean. Clicking his fingers, the Angel watches Dean almost fall flat on his face before straightening and pinning them with a look that screams violence. 

“Now get out, and take _him_ with you.”

Sam steps forward, tries to grip Dean’s wrist, but his hand is slapped away. “No. Get **out**. If that’s what you both really think of me, that _Death is my business_ then you can fuck off. I **might** be wrong, but I’m not just a killer, all I’ve ever done is try and save people.”

Sam hangs his head and steps up next to Castiel. “No, Dean, it’s no longer about that. Somewhere along the line you lost the order in which we’re meant to work. Now it’s _hunting things, saving people_ and I don’t know if I can be a part of it any more. I don’t know if Cas is right and it’s The Mark’s influence, but I _can’t_ keep mopping up your messes.”

Dean throws his shoulder back, ready to land a closed fist on Sam’s smug jaw, but Castiel zaps them out of the room before he can make contact. Dean is left laying flat on the floor, nose pressed against the carpet, hot tears threatening to fall. “I’m not a killer. I’m _not_.”

Despite the vehemence of the statement, somewhere in the back of Dean’s mind he knows how wrong he is, and that hurts more than Castiel siding with Sam or Sam walking out yet-a-fucking again, ever will.

That and the constant itching of the mark now pulsing on Dean’s arm.

 

 

Fin.


End file.
